


At The Late Night Double-Feature Picture Show

by JohnMyBeloved



Series: Stories of Dele and Eric [3]
Category: Football RPF, Men's Football RPF
Genre: Dele hates horror films, Hallowe’en, Horror Films, M/M, Rocky Horror Picture Show - Freeform, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 15:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16431917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnMyBeloved/pseuds/JohnMyBeloved
Summary: Dele loves Hallowe’en. He truly adores everything about it, well everything but one small thing. He absolutely hates horror films. And after spending years having horror movie marathons with Eric, he finally tells the truth- with some unexpected results.





	At The Late Night Double-Feature Picture Show

It was Hallowe'en, Dele's favourite time of year. He loved Autumn; the way the earth suddenly switched from blue and green to orange and brown, he loved the fun; even the most serious of the Spurs lads seemed to enjoy the holiday, and he just loved dressing up and decorating; it took him back to when he was a kid and he and Harry would rush home from school to sort out their costumes and go out on the hunt for chocolate and sweets.

 

But one thing that Dele didn't like were the multitude of horror films that he was always forced to watch. Gorefests, like Saw, Hostel and Cannibal Holocaust, to supernatural thrillers, like The Conjuring, Sinister and Insidious, and even silly flicks like Scream and Gremlins. Dele hated all of them. It was the one downside of Hallowe'en.

 

What made it worse was that Eric loved them, even if they caused him too to be scared half to death. For the past couple of years, he had insisted that they had a 'fright night' either just before the 31st of October or the exact night. And for the past couple of years, Dele had had to agree to conceal the truth about his borderline phobia of scary films (which he found out from a quick google search was called 'phobiaphobia'), the only person who knew how much he hated them, was Winksy and he hadn't stopped taking the piss out of him since.

 

Whenever he watched a horror film; his heart sped up to horribly fast rate, causing him to spend the entire two hours on the cusp of a panic attack; sweat dripped from every pore on his body, leaving him looking like he had just taken a dip into a swimming pool; and his nerves crackled and his muscles tensed at every change of sound or shot.

 

This year he simply refused to watch anymore jump scares or torture scenes or unnecessary nudity. He wasn't having it. Not again.

 

His best friend knocked at his door at 8:30, like he usually did for one of their film marathons. Dele opened the door with a wide smile but a thousand words on his mind to try and convince Eric to let them watch normal films this years (he'd even settle with Tarantino).

 

"Good evening, Delboy," Eric said with a bow as he entered the house.

 

"Hiya, Diet," he replied with a mock salute. He walked out of the hallway and into the living room, where he had laid out an array of snacks on the coffee table- Eric always brought the films and drinks (aka enough booze to get them shit-faced by the second film).

 

Eric shrugged off his rucksack and sat it on the arm rest while he sat down and rummaged around to pull out his DVDs- that was one of the things Dele found adorable about his friend: his refusal to use anything other than DVDs to watch films.

 

"So this year's selection is: Train to Busan, 28 Days Later, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street and The Nun. What do you feel like watching first? Korean zombies, Cillian Murphy and zombies, psycho killers or dream psycho killers or demon nuns?"

 

Dele could feel the panic rise in him, he hated all the options. He knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep after tonight- every year, Eric's choices got scarier and scarier.

 

He must've looked anxious or pained because Eric asked him if he was okay.

 

He shook his head, he felt a bit peaky. "Can we not watch any?" He looked at the floor as he answered but he could see Eric's face fall, out of his peripheral.

 

"What? Why? Have I done somethin-?"

 

"No! No! No," he quickly shook his head and grabbed Eric's shoulders firmly, "it's just that... I hate horror films."

 

"What? No you don’t. Since when?”

 

“Since I can remember. I think I watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre when I was about 8 and think that it has scarred me ever since.”

 

“But- but how come we’ve spent every Hallowe’en having ‘fright nights’, if you hate them so much? Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I thought you’d laugh at me. All my other friends did and I’ve never heard the end of it. Harry used to hide speakers under my bed and play the fucking Halloween or Psycho themes to scare me when I went to sleep.”

 

“I would never do that Del! I mean I told you I hate spiders and you don’t mock me when I get you to rescue me from them. I can’t believe we’ve annually watched the scariest horror films I could find and you’ve got a bloody phobia of them. How could I not notice?”

 

“I mean, everyone craps themselves watching horrors so it’s not really out of the ordinary if I do it.”

 

Eric couldn’t resist the urge to comfort Dele so he took a large step forward and wrapped his arms around him tightly. The curly haired man laughed softly and hugged him back, tickling the nape of his friend’s neck.

 

“I’m sorry if I’ve ruined our tradition and the night,” he whispered, suddenly very guilt.

 

“You haven’t,” Eric reassured firmly, “you really haven’t. We’ll just find something else to do and make a new tradition.”

 

Dele pulled away and reached into a packet of crisps, “like what?”

 

The other man’s face turned thoughtful for a couple of seconds, when it lit up all of a sudden and Eric jumped up from the sofa excitedly. He snatched a few grapes from the bowl on the table and gestured from Dele to the door, “get your coat on, I’ve got an idea.”

 

-

 

Dele felt the car abruptly stop and reached up to removed the blindfold from his eyes. “Don’t! Keep it on, just for a couple more minutes I swear,” Eric scolded playfully. He sighed however he couldn’t help but smile at Eric’s sheer enthusiasm for whatever he had planned.

 

He heard Eric open and slam his door shut before a cold gust of air hit him in the face and stung his cheeks as Eric then opened his door. He felt his friend grip his arms and guide him carefully out the car and onto the uneven pavement. He remained in darkness as Eric pulled him into a slow walk along more uneven pavement slabs, the sounds of a busy street grew louder and closer with every step.

 

The chattering of people, the horns and revving of cars and the clacking of shoe soles against the street.

 

“Are you going to murder me, Eric?” He joked, well he hoped that he was joking and Eric wasn’t really planning on murdering him, that would properly fuck up his plans.

 

“Ermmmm, maybe. Depends.”

 

“On what?” His voice unconsciously went up a pitch. Eric laughed deeply and loudly as a reply.

 

“Chill, Del. I’m not going to bloody kill you. I like you too much.” The breath caught in Dele’s throat and he wasn’t sure if the hot blush on his cheeks was because of the comment or the freezing October wind.

 

Suddenly Eric stopped walking and Dele walked straight into his chest with a thump. He let out a surprised cry and tripped back before being caught by his friend. “Be careful, Bamidele,” he laughed. Without being able to see his face, Dele still knew that Eric would have that large grin on his face but his eyes would look at him with care. His grasp on his biceps radiated heat and he could smell the familiar scent of his YSL aftershave mix with the crisp night air. Eric slowly turned Dele until he was at a certain angle and removed his hands, before standing behind the curly haired man and removing the blindfold.

 

It took a second for Dele’s eyes to adjust to the bright light emitted by the billboard, but once they had, he realised that Eric had taken him tothe cool, old, Art Deco cinema in Islington that he had always wanted to visit. And on the board, in bold black letters: **THE** **ROCKY** **HORROR** **PICTURE** **SHOW**.

 

Dele looked at Eric who seemed to have been watching his reaction the entire time. “A horror film? Really Eric?” He said with a deep sigh, he should’ve known that Eric would take the piss out of him. Only Eric would be so extra as to take him on a forty minute drive just to laugh at his fear of horror films. “Why would you take me to see a bloody horror film?”

 

Eric’s face screwed up in confusion as he watched Dele’s face become more annoyed at the temperature began to lower. “I haven’t? Not really anyway. Haven’t you heard of Rocky Horror?”

 

He shook his head.

 

“It’s a musical. Like a really camp musical about transvestite aliens and an engaged couple and there’s a weird scientist who wears suspenders and makes a buff man to shag- and Meat Loaf is in it on a motorbike. It’s really good.”

 

Dele just stared at him in shock, “what the fuck, Eric. That’s so random.”

 

“Yeah but it’s brilliant. I know you don’t like horror films but Rocky Horror isn’t scary, it’s like gothic and spooky looking but not at all scary. I promise.” Dele looked unconvinced.

 

“Swear on your life.”

 

“I swear on my life.” That was too easy, Dele thought. He narrowed his eyes and said slowly,

 

“Swear on my life.”

 

Eric looked slightly taken aback but softly replied, “I swear on your life. I wouldn’t take you to see something I know that’ll stress you out, okay? Trust me.”

 

And Dele nodded. He did trust Eric. And he allowed him to take him by the hand and lead him into the cinema and then, again into the dark auditorium.

 

-

 

During the film, Dele couldn’t help but be hyperaware of everything his friend did beside him. He could feel him move ever so often, and hear him chuckle and breathe and sing the lyrics to the songs under his breath, almost inaudibly but not quite. He felt the heat radiating of his skin every time he reached his arm over to steal some of Dele’s popcorn and smelt the sweet mix of chocolate and coke on his breath everytime he leant over slightly to whisper you’ll like this song before every big musical number.

 

In normal circumstances, he would’ve been annoyed by Eric’s whispered comments and the like but it felt different some how, it felt different every time when Eric whispered or breathed or stole his food, his heart rate shot up to the level it would usual be at while watching one of Eric’s horrible serial killer films. And as Frank N. Furter began to seduce both Janet and Brad, he couldn’t help but look at his friend’s profile in the soft light from the big screen.

 

He had never really realised how his eyebrows scrunched up slightly now and again and his lip pouted as he did so. And the way Eric tapped his finger on their shared arm rest in time with each word his almost-silently sang. And the way that the mixture of the scents that were Eric’s shower gel, aftershave and detergent caused his senses to fly into over drive and his thoughts to conjure up images of his mouth pressed into the space between Eric’s jaw and shoulders.

 

He shook his head lightly and tried to return his attention to the film where Janet had begun to sing in a high pitched voice whilst she and Rocky groped each other in what looked to be an over sized, rainbow fish tank. He looked at Eric with his whatthefuck face on, but his friend just threw back his usual cheeky grin and continued to subtly dance away to the song. Dele raised his left hand to scratch his ear before putting it down to rest on the armrest, where Eric’s hand was already casually placed with his palm up.

 

He smiled to himself and placed his hand on Eric’s, and slowly began to intertwine their fingers whilst the next scene played out. His eyes darted towards Eric’s face once their fingers were fully together and noticed that the blond shared his quiet smile. He turned back to the screen and finally settled back into the story.

 

-

 

It was midnight by the time Eric pulled back up into Dele’s drive. All the way home the pair hadn’t stopped talking about the film and how much they had loved it.

 

“It’s so weird and mad that it’s brilliant!” Dele laughed. The other man agreed.

 

“I know right! I remember watching it the on the plane to Heathrow when I moved back. The old lady next to me was watching some peaceful romcom with Ryan Reynolds, meanwhile I was awkwardly watching an alien scientist in lingerie get it on with a blond bloke in gold Speedo’s. I’m happy the old dear didn’t look over; probably would’ve had a heart attack.”

 

They both howled with laughter which gradually quietened down to silence. The car wasn’t awkward, more happy with a hint of nervousness as the players both cast their minds back to the hand hold that had lasted over an hour. Sure, they had often hugged and on the pitch had kissed each other in celebration, damn, they had even held hands on the pitch in front of tens of thousands of fans, but this was different. A new boundary had been crossed but both were unsure where the new boundary lay.

 

“Thank you, Diet for taking me out tonight. I should’ve believed that you wouldn’t take me somewhere I would hate.” He said sincerely, not allowing his eyes to leave Eric’s bright blue ones. Eyes that often reminded him of a summer sky or the waves of the Mediterranean (he felt so corny thinking of these parallels. He was beginning to think he was turning into Bridget Jones).

 

“It’s so no problem, Del,” he replied warmly and with a good natured pat on his friend’s knee, but one that didn’t move. Dele placed his hand again ontop of Eric’s one, and raised his gaze to meet Eric’s once again.

 

Of its own accord, his free left hand unplugged his seat belt and then reached across to dance along the stubble on the other man’s jaw. Eric’s Adam’s Apple visiblybobbed as he swallowed deeply and followed the movements with his eyes. Dele’s thumb rose along his pale skin, dragging itself over the bump of his chin and up onto his lower and upper lip. He dragged his thumb down and pulled Eric’s bottom lip with it.

 

The blue eyed man’s gaze burned hotter on Dele’s skin when it became apparent that they both were wishing for the same thing. Eric’s unclasped his own seat belt and with a deep breath, pushed his lips down onto Dele’s.

 

His hands wove into his curly hair and pulled him closer while Dele’s left arm snaked around his waist and gripped onto the the baggy material of his burgundy sweater. Their lips opened in order for the kiss to deepen and a low growl of a noice forced its way out of the back of Dele’s throat when Eric’s fingers had found themselves tangled into his hair and had pulled slightly.

 

Their noses brushed and Eric’s stubble rubbed and Dele accidentally pinched his side but they didn’t care, not daring to break their kiss until their lungs screamed for oxygen- even so, their lips were apart for only a couple of seconds before resuming their previous places, interlocked in one another.

 

When they finally did break apart, their lips were swollen and slightly bruised, their hair messy and their clothes dishevelled. “Wow.” One of them panted.

 

“Wow.” The other replied.

 

After they had caught their breath, Dele’s eyes flickered from his front door to the flushed face of Eric Jeremy Edgar Dier.

 

“Do you want to come in? Maybe watch a scary movie?”

 

Eric raised an eyebrow and smirked, “I thought you said that you hated scary movies.”

 

“Not if you’re there to distract me, I won’t.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this was basically inspired by Eric and Dele’s reaction to the Haunting Of Hill House on Celebrity Gogglebox, which I loved so much.
> 
> Also the cinema which they visit is inspired by the Everyman Screen On The Green in London which I believe is one of the oldest cinemas in the UK.
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this and leave a comment about what you think!  
> -H x


End file.
